The blonde with blue eyes married the dark-skinned model. And now they have extraordinarily gorgeous kids that combine the greatest qualities of both parents. Now, observe their appearance.
Around the world, people have heard about this unique couple. People in their homeland in Australia are curious about the couple when they stroll through the streets.
The couple is the center of attention for everyone. Would still do! He is a blonde with blue eyes, and she is a breathtakingly beautiful dark-skinned girl. How two such disparate people met and fell in love is a mystery to all!
And this is how it was. The pair had their online meeting. On a dating site, the man came across the profile of his future wife. He was so enamored with her from the very first picture. But given that the stranger was a model, this is hardly shocking. Her looks and physique can make many people envious.
The girl accepted them when they first met. Their love story started then, and two years later he proposed to her. He proposed marriage to his sweetheart in the center of the town square. She concurred. There was video of this heartwarming occasion.
In any case, the video became incredibly popular! People started to follow the unique duo as word of it spread across the Internet. Everyone was pleased for the upcoming family, and there was no hostility.
The wedding quickly happened. All people wanted was for the newlyweds to start a family as soon as possible. It was hard to even picture their offspring looking as gorgeous as they would.
The girl the couple had was amazing. She genuinely absorbed her parents’ best qualities.
The girl had a sister two years later. Even though the baby is only a year old, everyone immediately knows that the sisters will develop into extraordinarily attractive young women.
The pair is in it for their own enjoyment. He is a photographer, and she blogs. They have an intense love for one another and their kids. They also serve as more evidence that love really does rule the world. Furthermore, she cannot be broken by barriers arising from differences in race, nationality, or appearance.
MY LATE GRANDMA’S NEIGHBOR ACCUSED ME OF HIDING “HER SHARE OF THE WILL” — WHEN SHE REFUSED TO LEAVE, I GAVE HER A REALITY CHECK.
The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, cast harsh shadows on the woman standing on my porch, her face a mask of indignation. Mrs. Gable, Grandma’s “entitled neighbor,” as she so lovingly referred to her, was a force of nature, and not a particularly pleasant one.
“How long am I supposed to wait for my share of the will?!” she demanded, her voice a grating rasp that could curdle milk. “My grandkids are coming over, and I want them to take their part of the inheritance before they leave!”
I blinked, trying to process the sheer audacity of her statement. “Mrs. Gable,” I said, my voice calm despite the rising tide of annoyance, “Grandma’s will… it doesn’t mention you.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. “Nonsense! We were like family! She wouldn’t leave me out.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but everything in the house now belongs to me.”
I offered a small concession. “I’ve packed some boxes for donation. You’re welcome to look through them, see if there’s anything you want.”
“Donation boxes?!” she shrieked. “Your grandma was like family to us! We had to be mentioned in the will. Give it to me! I have to see for myself.”
“I can’t do that,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “The will is a legal document.”
She planted her feet, a stubborn look on her face. “Then I’m not leaving. I’ll just stand here until you give me what’s mine.” She proceeded to stand directly in front of my porch, peering into my windows and muttering under her breath.
I sighed. This was getting ridiculous. I needed to give this woman a reality check, a gentle but firm reminder that she wasn’t entitled to anything.
I went inside, grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper, and returned to the porch. Mrs. Gable watched me, her eyes filled with suspicion.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice laced with distrust.
“I’m writing you a bill,” I said, my voice deliberately casual.
“A bill? For what?”
“For services rendered,” I said, scribbling on the paper. “Let’s see… ‘Consultation regarding inheritance, one hour… $100.'”
Mrs. Gable’s face turned a shade of purple I didn’t think possible. “Are you serious?!”
“Perfectly,” I said, adding another line. “‘Unauthorized surveillance of private property, one hour… $50.'”
“That’s outrageous!” she sputtered.
“And,” I continued, adding a final line, “‘Emotional distress caused by unwarranted demands, one hour… $150.'” I handed her the paper. “That’ll be $300, Mrs. Gable.”
She snatched the paper from my hand, her eyes scanning the ludicrous list. “You can’t do this!”
“Actually, I can,” I said, a smile playing on my lips. “And if you don’t pay, I’ll have to add late fees.”
She crumpled the paper in her fist, her face a mask of fury. “You’re just like your grandma!” she hissed. “Entitled and selfish!”
“Perhaps,” I said, “but I’m also practical. And I value my peace of mind.”
She glared at me for a moment, then turned and stomped off the porch, muttering about lawyers and lawsuits. I watched her go, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.
Later that day, as I sorted through Grandma’s belongings, I found a small, velvet-lined box tucked away in a drawer. Inside was a handwritten note, addressed to me.
“My dearest grandchild,” it read, “I know Mrs. Gable can be… persistent. Remember, you owe no one anything. Your happiness is your own. And sometimes, a little bit of absurdity is the best way to deal with entitlement.”
I smiled, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. Grandma had known exactly what to do. And she had left me the perfect tool to handle it. I had learned a valuable lesson that day: sometimes, the best way to deal with entitled people is to meet their absurdity with your own. And a little bit of humor never hurts.
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